Xanadu
by Roniturtle
Summary: Splinter walks his home and contemplates all he has. Just a short one-shot. Don't own Splinter or the TMNTs. Please R&R.


XANADU

Kubla Khan (Or a Vision in a Dream A fragment). By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

 _In Xanadu did Kubla Khan_

 _A stately pleasure dome decree:_

 _Where Alph, the sacred river, ran_

 _Through caverns measureless to man_

 _Down to a sunless sea._

Home, a place everyone wants, but so many do not have. These were the thoughts that went through Splinter's mind as he made his way through the sewer tunnels that led to his lair. Never in his whole life had he thought he would live in such a place. So dark, so cold, and of course, there was the smell. He shook his head as he made his way toward the lair, walking in the raw sewage that ran along the sewer tunnels.

He sighed tiredly as he walked into the lair. It was quiet. No sign of his sons. They were on patrol. He looked around the large room of the lair and sighed softly. If anyone had told him he would be living in New York, beneath the streets of the city and raising four mutated turtles as his sons, he would have laughed in their face and maybe call the guys with the white coats to have the person taken away. Sometimes, it almost feels like a long nightmare he's had yet to wake up from.

He made his way over to the kitchen to make some tea, his mind thinking about all he had lost and all he had gained over the years. But, he supposed it could be worse. He could be alone, living in an apartment, working hard and making little money trying to support himself as so many in the world do every day.

As he put the kettle on the stove, he looked at his hands. Not the first time he cursed them. Rat's hands, or rather paws. His eyes searched the cabinets for his tea. At least he had hands with fingers, there were people out there that did not. Again, he supposed it could be worse.

He sat at the table and slowly sipped the steaming liquid. He thought of his sons and all that had happened in the last few years since they went to the surface. Never had he thought he would be where he was. His wife gone, killed by the hands of a man he once called brother. And this brother now an enemy. His home destroyed, and he….a mutated rat living deep in the bowels of New York. He thought of the home he missed so very much to this very day. Fresh air, bright sunshine, lush green trees and cool refreshing streams filled with fish.

He hummed softly as he placed his cup in the sink. Those days were far away now. Long ago his life was normal. Long ago he had a family and he had friends. Long ago he was Hamato Yoshi. Now he was Splinter, a rat living where rats belong, in the sewer, unknown to all and dead to the human world. He stood in the middle of the large living area again and let his eyes wander over all things he did have. All he saw reminded him that he was not dead, he was very much alive and doing everything he could to live. To make a home for him and his sons.

He made his way to the room that was the dojo and smiled. The large tree that loomed over him reminded him of his home in Japan. The kanji on the rice paper walls took him back to his father's dojo that he grew up in. And the little picture that he placed on the little shrine, the one showing him with his wife and daughter brought a small smile to his face. Shen may have been gone but Miwa was alive and now, she was back with him. Yes, it could be worse for him, but it was not.

He sat in his meditative pose and relaxed. The quietness of the lair helped him to calm his mind and bring himself to a zen like state. The universe, with all it's mysteries and vast endlessness was nothing compared to what there was down here. What would the humans say if they knew about all this.

April, Casey, Kirby O'Neil, they all knew of them and although shocked at first, they had come to accept what they were and helped to keep them safe from the human world. Then there were so many others that had come to know about them, and they too had helped to keep them safe, maybe more out of necessity for themselves then for him and his sons, since many of them had become mutants as well. He chuckled lightly as he thought of how cruel fate could be. How things always seem to come back full circle.

Several years ago, Saki may have destroyed his life but now, he was so much richer. More so then Saki had ever been. Splinter thought of all he had, four wonderful sons, a daughter returned to him, friends both human and mutant like him. And a home, maybe not the best home in the world, but still a home where he raised his sons and taught them his art. Yes, in the end, his life was good.

Splinter meditated for an hour before getting up and making his way through the lair once more. Although he missed his sons when they were out on patrol and he worried horribly for them, waiting with anxiety welling within him for them to return, he did enjoy the quietness of the lair when they were not around and it gave him a chance to walk around and take time to enjoy all there was.

This home, this sewer was a type of haven, a sanctuary, a place of safety for him and any who were friends and family. He made his way along the hallway leading to his sons rooms and took a moment to look into each one. The first he came to was his youngest son. Michelangelo, so full of life and innocence. His room resembled this. It was a mess, garbage littered the floor and his toys and comic books were everywhere. On his messy bed sat the little teddy bear with duct tape on it that held the small stuffed animal together. But it made him happy and it was there for him when he wanted it.

The room across from that was of his most hot headed son, Raphael. A temper so fierce Splinter felt that one day it would consume him if he did not find a way to control it. But so far, with patient and training, he seemed to be doing alright. Splinter peeked in and smiled at the room full of a variety of toys, or action figures as his sons called them. There was a drum set which took a lot of abuse over the years when Raph's temper would flare but it did manage to survive. Splinter's eyes wandered over to the small cage that still sat upon the desk that was cluttered with comic books and car magazines. A sad smile came to his lips when he thought of the turtle Slash, how sad Raphael had been after Spike had mutated. But now he was Slash and he was still family. Splinter shook his head and closed the door. He then made his way over to the room next to Raph's.

Donatello, his most intelligent son. In here were lap tops and computers waiting to be worked on. Experiments and books of all kind and papers strewn about with mathematical equations written all over them. Posters of Einstein and Darwin were on his wall along with a chart of the periodic table. Much like his lab, his room was clean but things were everywhere. Everything had it's own little pile though. An organized mess his son had told him once. He couldn't help but chuckle at that. This particular son was so busy and yet, he still found time to be with his brothers, his friends and just enjoy life.

Now his last and possibly his oldest son, Leonardo. His room was clean and neat, everything in it's place. His bed made, no wrinkle in the sheets. His desk had books in perfect order. The comic books placed on one side while the hard cover books placed on the other all in alphabetical order. His tatami mat rolled up in the corner and his meditation candles put away in their little box in a cubbyhole in the desk. Only a few collectibles and action figures with a few posters of his hero Captain Ryan and the Space Heroes crew on the wall. Everything about this room said it all; serious with a bit of fun. Mature with a slight amount of mischief. Splinter gave a light laugh and closed the door.

Now he walked toward the living area once again. The small pool by the side with clean water where his sons would play in when they were growing up. After all, they were turtles and turtles did need to swim. The large bench he would find them sleeping on more then once when they were still in their childhood. The television Donatello had fixed more then once but it suited them well. They did not have much but what they did have was more then enough. All the comforts of home he thought with happiness. Yes, he was truly rich in more ways then one.

The lair, his home, so quiet, so full of happy memories. They had almost lost this place once, but with much determination, they were able to get it back. Splinter sighed deeply and sat on the bench, his mind riddled with thoughts. So many in the human world lived in places so much worse but if it was home, who was he to judge. As long as one was happy, it did not matter if their home was a palace or a box, or even a sewer. Home is where the heart is they would say, and his heart was here, deep beneath the streets of New York City. And here he was happy. Here was his Eden, his Shangri La and he would not let anyone tear him or his family away from their home again.

His ears twitched back as the sound of his sons' voices came to him. They were laughing and talking with their friends, April and Casey. Splinter smiled and turned toward the turnstiles, his home would once again be alive with noise and laughter. Home, casa, homu. No matter what is was called, it was his and he treasured every day he was able to enjoy being here. Yes, he thought watching as his sons and friends walked in; truly this was his paradise, this was his Xanadu.

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This was one of my favorite poems and, I have to admit, when I first read it back in high school I immediately thought of Splinter of the 1987 series and his type of home. Anyway, hope you enjoy this short story. Please review. -Peace- :)


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